


Roommates

by martisnack



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU, Good Omens AU, M/M, MalexMale, Roommates, au good omens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-06-03 10:18:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martisnack/pseuds/martisnack
Summary: So basically Crowley and Zira are roommates and they don't really speak.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> HIIIII This is still on going, but I don't know when I'll be able to update. It's not that I am not interested in this ship anymore, is that I lost the plans of the story I made back when I started writing it so I don't know where to take it. I'll preview you when and if I decide to stop it, in the meantime please, enjoy!!!

He couldn't simply believe it. His father was a millionaire, and he had to share a room in Cambridge with someone who had probably won a full ride and had no money? He had no time for this.  
"Oh, you're here already. My name is Anthony J. Crowley; you can call me Crowley. And you are?" His roommate was a small round boy with curly blond hair and dressed in a sand suit. Crowley mentally cringed at the outfit. This guy had no taste. "I'm Aziraphale. You can call me Aziraphale or Zira, it's up to you, I study English literature, what do you do?" the short curly haired boy smiled and extended his hand for the tall long haired boy to shake. "Whatever, don't get in my way. see you," and with that, Crowley was out, while Aziraphale stayed there, feet nailed to the floor and mouth slightly ajar, looking at the door closing behind the person who had to share the rest of the year with: it wasn't starting well.  
For the rest of fresher's week, Aziraphale didn't see Crowley, but he sure as hell did hear him. Every day, he would come home drunk at every hour of the night, bringing people over and yelling; Aziraphale could barely hold in the tears when he found his clothes trashed. "Crowley, I know you need to have fun, make fun of me and all...but you could've avoided the whole 'let's trash his things' act...it is not...it's not nice," the boy had tears coming out from his eyes at the point, and Crowley almost felt sorry, that he actually sent up clothes, anonymously, to his roommate as he was responsible for the trashing, only that this time they were haute couture. Aziraphale tried to thank the man, but it was unsuccessful; his roommate wasn't seen or heard from for weeks, meaning that he was in at night, but out before the literature student could wake up, the mysterious young man was already gone, leaving a mess behind him for Aziraphale to clean.ave  
Aziraphale didn't have to clean Crowley's side of the room, but he felt morally obliged to, as he lived in the room as well, and spent most of the time in the room working, as the library would get too crowded and people couldn't respect the "quiet zone" signs.

As the months would go by, Aziraphale would make nice remarks to Crowley or leave him baked goods or just smile and say 'hello', only to be met by an eye-roll and a "yeah whatever have a good day,". Aziraphale wasn't going to give up, and even if his roommate wouldn't cooperate, he wasn't going to be rude because that's not how his father, Gabriel Fell, raised him. "Aziraphale? I'll be coming next week. Remember that you need to accompany me to the corporate event that will launch the new faces of British tv. People have to see that you're my son, I can't believe that you still wear those sand suits, they were in ages ago. Sometimes you're so retro." Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes at his son in the video call, while Aziraphale looked at his shoes guilty. At that moment, Crowley got in the room "oh, sorry, didn't realize you were having a business interview. Hi Gabriel!" Crowley waved at Gabriel and was about to exit the room when the man yelled at him to get on the call. "Anthony! What a pleasure to see you! How are your parents? I see you are my son's roommate! What a nice surprise!" The man laughed and smiled at the boys, who looked at each other, quite surprised. "you two know each other?" "he is your son?"


	2. The Event

Aziraphale hated appearing in public. He was nothing like his father, so desperate to be seen, to get appreciated by others, to be adored; he was quiet, liked to stay far from the world that took his mother away from him and made his life hell on earth.

The Fell TV corporation was an established name in its field, and Aziraphale was proud of his father but didn't want to get too involved as he was simply not made to. He was a man of culture and if there was something he learned by living with his father, "culture doesn't sell when it comes to television". That is why he kept a low profile until that moment. "So...you father is Gabriel Fell, uh?" Crowley’s tone was calm, he suddenly didn’t know where to bang his head, he had to be cautious; Zira shrugged "Pretty much, he was quite absent, growing up. He's a busy man." "I see..." "Yes, I will put in a good word for you if you need one," he smiled, quite embarrassed and tried to go back to his book, when Crowley chimed in again "Oh, no need. I- my father is Faust Crowley, he is an old friend of your dad, I already met Gabe- I mean, Mr Fell. Your dad." He was nervous, Zira had never seen Crowley this nervous, and Crowley couldn't believe he had been rooming with the son of his personal hero, and kind of bullying the poor kid.

An awkward silence fell in the room, and it was growing heavier and heavier with every minute that was passing by. “I shall go to the library, bye,” Aziraphale finally said, Anthony too was starting to say something, but he quickly buried it and watched his roommate get out of the room, to avoid him.

They had no reason to be embarrassed, after all. They just didn’t know that their parents knew each other, and Aziraphale didn’t know his roommate, whom he kind of hated because he was always rude, and his father, who barely tolerated his whole “man of culture” act (which wasn’t an act but whatever), were on first name basis.

To be entirely honest, there were a lot of things that Aziraphale didn’t know about his father, but after all he wasn’t to blame. After his mother’s death, Aziraphale found a home and friends in books, the only thing that made him feel accepted, while Gabriel found that creating a new life in TV, building the empire that would keep him extremely busy, that would create a fake persona, a character that he would have to act, in order to forget the pain losing his wife made him feel. Day after day, he figured out that it was easier to feel less pain in having to deal with loss when he was living in fiction, and so he tried to forget about reality.

Anthony J. Crowley was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall in front of him and tried to calm down. How on earth didn’t he figure out earlier that Aziraphale was Gabriel’s son?! Yes, he didn’t look like his father, he looked poor despite being highly educated. He should’ve known from the time he phoned the head of a publishing house to correct details about some poet that died a thousand years before because they weren’t accurate, and then proceeded to get some documents that proved it. Crowley felt mortified for having bullied him and didn’t really know how to apologise.

The weekend rolled by and they both were sent a car. The maxi event that his father was obliging him to attend was here, and Aziraphale was feeling worse than usual. It wasn’t going to be fun, especially because he was going to be dressed in expensive designer clothes, that he absolutely hated, and was going to be forced to speak in public about something he didn’t care about, which was not going to be ‘fun’, as Gabriel Fell put it.

To Aziraphale’s delight, the event itself was going to be held in a historical mansion, which meant that he could hide in the library before the speech he had to give, and then disappear again in the middle of old books. Everything was going according to plan, he got his new black suit on, managed to avoid everyone and got in the library…only to discover that Anthony Crowley was sitting, or better, slouching in one of the armchairs with a copy of Aesop’s tales in his hands, looking kind of tipsy, but it was hard to tell, he had his steampunk sunglasses on.

“What are you doing here?!” Aziraphale was panicking, he didn’t want to be humiliated in front of his roommate as well, his father would’ve heard about this. “Nice suit, Zira. Fancy seeing you here. Hiding, I suppose?” Crowley hiccupped, then proceeded to remove his sunglasses and toss them on the floor, and then wink at his roommate, Aziraphale’s pale face got crimson quickly, Crowley giggled. “I-hum-yes. Idontliketoappearinpublic,” Crowley got up quite wobbly, closing the book and throwing it behind his shoulder, perfectly hitting the armchair. In a quick movement he was facing the other boy, he was so close they were breathing on each other. “Well, if you mumble I can’t understand you,”. Crowley’s eyes were shining weirdly and he heavily smelled like whiskey and rum. “C-crowley. Y-you’re d-drunk,” Aziraphale didn’t know what to do but walk back, until he hit the bookshelf behind him. Crowley trapped the blond with his arms, giggled some more. “Zira, you are a very pretty boy,” he licked his lips and smiled at the boy, who was breathing heavily and starting to stutter “C-crowley you didn’t seem that drunk when I got in…” “You make me like this, _Aziraphale_ ,” he wasn’t slurring his words, but the way he said the boy’s name made him shiver. Crowley’s head was close to his, but he was getting closer and closer, only to be mere millimetres apart. Aziraphale knew what was going to happen, his eyes were fix in his roommate’s, he was letting himself go, feeling that it was the right thing to do, as there was no point in confronting the other, as Crowley was, first and foremost, drunk, taller, faster, and surely more skilled than him. Aziraphale was going to accept his fate as it was, and, even if he didn’t like it, the idea of kissing Crowley was surely better than speaking in public.

So there they were. Crowley was getting closer and closer, now only a sheet of paper could be inserted between the two, Aziraphale was strangely relaxed; it’s not that he didn’t want to kiss Crowley, because subconsciously he wanted to, but he didn’t want his first kiss to be given to him by a drunk Crowley, he wanted it to be memorable.

Aziraphale close his eyes, ready to meet Crowley’s lips…when the door swung suddenly open.


	3. Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY! Uni was a hell and whenever I had free time I used it to sleep, I also got a writer's block and on top of that I had more than half chapter written that got lost, which is awesome!!  
> I'll try to update more often, I hope to get ideas. As I lost what I had, I don't really remember where I wanted to go with this, so it might end soon. 
> 
> Merry Christmas!!

“Oh! Good! Here you are. Come on, we’re about to start,” Anathema Device smiled to the boys while Aziraphale deeply breathed with relief. The blond boy followed his oldest and wisest friend to the stage, where his father was doing his million dollars speech, full of empty words but that was charming and kept people glued to his lips even when he was telling them that the only tv he gave them was rubbish, so that people could be stupid. This time it was different, as Aziraphale was going to get on stage and talk about his new show, centred on books and culture, which he would not present, but which he designed and that he will control as creative director.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you…my son, Aziraphale! I am leaving you in good hands, don’t worry!” Gabriel turned to the left part of the stage, applauding while his son, paler than a ghost, started to greet shyly the crowd. “Thank you father,” he had reached the podium and was doing his best to keep his anxiety under control, “I am here today to introduce to you “30 minutes at the library”, a new product signed Fell TV. “30 Minutes at the Library” is a new quiz show were two classes from different schools have to answer questions about a book they had to read, plus other questions about books in general. The show will air once a week and last exactly thirty minutes. It is aimed to have people more interested in culture. Plus, there is a way for you to win as well, as every week we will give out some clues about a book, to win an Amazon gift card. When the book is not guessed, the upright of the gift card will grow….so open your mind, ears and books because you can win too!”

Aziraphale started smiling as he completed his pitch, then looked at his father, who thanked him and let him get off the stage. The only thing that made it possible for the boy to deliver his speech was the thought of Crowley in the library, with him, way too close and way too inebriated for his thoughts, but still handsome and full of lust.

Once off the stage, the boy’s legs started to shake, he needed alcohol if he wanted to speak with his long haired companion….so he made his way to the buffet table and decided to steal the biggest bottle, it’s not like anyone would miss it anyway, and it’s not like anyone would want to tell him something; he was Aziraphale Fell after all.

The blond made his way to the library, the bottle each step less heavy as he drank the wine to get some courage.

_You can do it. You spoke on stage, didn’t make a fool of yourself and now you can go and talk to him! COME ON AZIRAPHALE!_

Aziraphale straightened his back and kept walking, looking around as if Crowley had moved.

  
When Anathema Device walked into the library to get Aziraphale, Crowley did not know what to do, alone, in a room full of books. He did not want to go and watch Aziraphale from the seating area, as if the boy would see him, he’d totally mess up the speech. He was drunk, not cruel.

Crowley was thirsty, so he went to the open bar, listened to his roomie speak about books, and got even more drinks. However, before Aziraphale could finish, Crowley felt the urge to smoke, so he went outside and then returned to the library as the speech was ending. He could not understand why Aziraphale thought that books were that glorious. Sure, they were cool, but nothing could beat the latest technological invention, I mean, stuff written in the 18th century? Cool. The latest iPad? Awesome. He wasn’t much of a reader, he found them aesthetically pleasing, but useless. Once you read one, you can move onto the other, while on a machine you can put whatever you want in it. Sure, when it becomes obsolete you have to change it, but you can do whatever you want with it: read, watch tv, listen to music, write, play games….while books were just…books.

He sat in the same armchair he sat in before, or better, slouched in it. His legs were spread open, rested over two small stools next to the coffee table, his arms were all over the armrests, his head was over the back on his left shoulder, his eyes were closed. Crowley was too drunk to deal with stuff, he needed a nap, and that is what he intended taking. The only problem? There was too much noise in the room next to the one he was in, and of course someone decided to open the door just now. “Fucking great, more noise,” Crowley started to massage his eyes to keep calm. “Oh dear, I brought wine” Aziraphale sat over his legs and Crowley opened his eyes, only to see his blonde roommate staring at him, blushing.

Crowley took Aziraphale’s face in his hands, and kissed him, only to take the bottle and take a big swing. “You did good, I listened, for a while, then I got bored. Books are cute, but I’m a whore for technology, angel. You’re incredibly cute when you talk about books though. I’ll perhaps let you bore me some more, tomorrow night, when we both get back to uni, what do you say?” Crowley traced a trail of kisses over his jaw and neck, Aziraphale blushed even more and let out a soft moan. “Don’t do that, Angel. Or I’ll never be able to stop…” Aziraphale got up, somewhat offended by Crowley’s statement, but the long haired boy followed and pinned the blond to a shelf, hardly, kissing him harshly.

It was hot, perhaps too hot in the room, and Crowley did not want to leave his roommate’s lips, they were so soft and tasted like sweet wine. Aziraphale did not want to leave Crowley’s either, but he decided that he too wanted to kiss his neck, just to see what he’d do. That was not a smart idea, as Crowley let out a whimper and then proceeded to spread Zira’s legs to make him feel what his presence was doing to him.

Aziraphale gulped. He was drunk, but not enough to not know that he was not going to regret it, if they were to continue. He was not a chicken, he wanted to play safe as this was not someone met at the club that he’d never see again, this was his roommate. Someone he’d see from the beginning to the end of the school year. Someone who was important for him. Something who needed to treat him nicely, and not just like a puppet.

“Crowley, stop”.


End file.
